A Rooftop Conversation
by LizTheBookNerd
Summary: The conversation from the roof, right before the Hunger Games, in Peetas POV.


**A/N: Basically, I don't own the dialogue. However, I do own all of Peeta's thoughts.**

It's late at night and I should be sleeping, but how can I? It will be impossible to sleep tonight. Everything in my life has been moving so quickly lately and sometimes I can't even remember the details of my day vividly anymore. It's all fuzzy and a blur. Last week I was just normal Peeta Mellark; the Baker's son. I helped out in the bakery, played sports, and hung out with friends. Just a week ago, I was invisible to Katniss. Now, I'm Peeta Mellark; male tribute for District Twelve in the 74th annual Hunger Games. I'm also anything but invisible to Katniss currently.

Today, I announced my love for Katniss to the entire country of Panem. Tomorrow, I'll be in an arena full of kids, all with the same goal, the goal of killing the other 23 tributes. I have a slightly different goal though, a goal that involves Katniss making it out alive over myself.

With all of that, it would be impossible for anyone to sleep I'd like to think.

Not wanting to stay in my room, I decided to head to the roof. It's open but private enough.

When I get to the door, I leave it slightly ajar, not wanting to be locked out from the inside of the building. The roof isn't lit, but you can still see what's around you from the bright neon lights of the Capitol buildings. A lot of commotion is taking place on the streets right now. There is the sound of music and car horns, people celebrating. They're all excited for their favorite sporting event starting tomorrow. It's sick.

I sit down on the cold floor, finally feeling like I was actually alone. My thoughts start drifting and then flash back to early in the day, the look of anger on Katniss' face when we got off the elevator after the interviews, her pushing me into a flower pot. I don't think I'd ever seen her so mad. I don't think she stayed mad for too long though, maybe just a little upset.

I can't say I regret announcing my love for Katniss, but I can't say if she knows I was speaking the truth either. I'm pretty sure she thought I was lying about that. If only she knew the thoughts that flutter through my mind on a daily basis that involve her. Then she'd know I wasn't faking it.

I don't want to lie though; I don't want to do that for the games. So many people do whatever they can to survive and win. They pretend to be someone they're not. They come up with stories and fake personalities, all so they can impress the crowd. I want to impress the audience by being myself. That's why I'll sacrifice myself to protect Katniss at any cost. I won't let stepping foot in the arena change that.

I direct my attention to the people on the street. I'm looking in on their party. I don't realize I have company until I hear Katniss say, "You should be getting some sleep."

I jump a little, startled by Katniss' sudden arrival. No wonder she's such a good hunter. I shake my head to clear my thoughts.

"I didn't want to miss the party. It's for us, after all," I respond back to her.

I notice Katniss walks towards the edge of the roof and leans on the rail. She's analyzing the people below her and I notice her eyes squint. "Are they in costumes?" she asks, having a hard time making out the people bellow us.

"Who could tell?" I answer. "With all the crazy clothes they wear here. Couldn't sleep, either?"

"Couldn't turn my mind off," she says. She looks down at her feet.

"Thinking about your family?" I ask. After all, from what I've picked up about Katniss, nobody means more to her than her Mother and Sister. Besides that boy she hunts with maybe.

She looks a little guilty before she responds. "No. All I can do is wonder about tomorrow. Which is pointless, of course." She looks over at me and her eyes drift to my bandaged hand that I've been holding in my healthy hand. She looks genuinely guilty. "I really am sorry about your hand."

She's already apologized, but it's nice to hear it again. "It doesn't matter, Katniss. I've never been a contender in these Games anyway."

She looks at me with a mildly odd look, shocked that I'd even say something like that. "That's no way to be thinking," she informs me.

"Why not? It's true. My best hope is to not disgrace myself and…" but I hesitate to finish the rest of my thoughts. Do I dare tell her the thoughts I've been thinking up here on the roof, or act like it's nothing. Maybe she'll just drop it, noticing my hesitation.

"And what?" she adds.

I let out a soft sigh, doubting Katniss will even register the sound. I figure there's no real harm in telling her my thoughts at this point. "I don't know how to say it exactly," I start. "Only…I want to die as myself. Does that make any sense?" I ask her. I look to see Katniss' reaction and she shakes her head no, confused by what I mean. So I continue. "I don't want them to change me in there. Turn me into some kind of monster that I'm not."

She bites her lip in response, and I wish I could know the thoughts running through her mind. She finally asks me, "Do you mean you won't kill anyone?"

I try to come up with a quick response, not wanting to exactly say 'No, I'll kill if it means protecting you.' Somehow I don't see that going over well with Katniss.

"No, when the time comes, I'm sure I'll kill just like everybody else. I can't go down without a fight. Only I keep wishing I could think of a way to…to show the Capitol they don't own me. That I'm more than just a piece in their games."

"But you're not," she responds. "None of us are. That's how the Games work."

"Okay, but within that framework, there's still you, there's still me. Don't you see?"

Hesitantly, she says "A little. Only…no offense, but who cares, Peeta?"

I can feel a spark of anger inside of me, locking blue eyes on gray. "I do. I mean, what else am I allowed to care about at this point?"

She looks a little startled by my response. "Care about what Haymitch said. About staying alive."

I smile at her and mockingly say, "Okay. Thanks for the tip, sweetheart." The look on Katniss' face is a mixture of frustration and shock.

"Look, if you want to spend the last hours of your life planning some noble death in the arena, that's your choice. I want to spend mine in District Twelve."

"Wouldn't surprise me if you do," I respond. "Give my mother the best when you make it back, will you?"

"Count on it," she says, before leaving the roof.

I'm left alone again, my thoughts drifting to the conversation I just had with Katniss. At least she kind of knows my goals in the arena, for the most part. She knows we have different ideas. She just doesn't know we actually have the same goal. That goal being for her to survive.

I don't know how much longer I say on the roof. I decide to go back to my room. As I pass Katniss' room, I can hear the rustling of sheets, knowing like me, she isn't sleeping yet.

I get maybe a total of 60 minutes of sleep before I hear a knocking on my door, telling me to wake up for my prep team.

I guess this is it, the 'big big day' in the eyes of the Capitol. But to me, it's the day I'll prove to myself I'll never let the Capitol change who I am as a person.

**A/N: Hope you liked it! Like the irony I threw in at the end? No? Oh, well I'm sorry about that. Thanks for reading!**


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